CHAPTER XXII
BRENT GAYLONG
The fellows were all waiting for us when we came out and we hiked out to
where those scouts had their camp. There were only five of them, one
patrol, and the biggest one was a kind of scoutmaster and patrol leader
rolled into one. His name was Brent Gaylong. I walked with him behind the
others and he told me all about his patrol and the troubles they had. He
was an awful nice fellow, kind of quiet like; but he was funny, too.
Christopher, that little troop must have been started on Friday the
thirteenth, that's one thing sure.
I said, "What's the name of your patrol?"
"Well," he said, "we call ourselves the Church Mice, because we're so poor.
First we were going to call ourselves the Job's Turkeys, but we decided
that a church mouse was poorer than Job's turkey."
I had to laugh. I said, "I've heard of most every kind of an animal's name
used for patrols, but never a church mouse. My patrol is the Silver Fox."
"That's a bully name," he said.
"Anyway," I told him, "the name hasn't got so much to do with it. There was
a patrol up at Temple Camp named the Polliwogs and they were all nice
fellows.
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